One of my favorite stories told by my father involved Chester the Shetland pony. He came with the farm we moved to in the early 70s. An old swayback pony he probably witnessed the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Possibly even the Magna Carta. Anyway, there was about a week where Chester was getting out of the barnyard and enjoying the greener grasses of the roadside ditch early in the morning. Dad, awakened by a call from the neighbor roused himself from the bed and chased Chester back into the barnyard. Eventually, colorful euphemisms were employed to express his frustration over this early morning disruption of sleep. Anyone raised on a farm understands.

Anyway, after one particularly passionate string of euphemisms that no doubt gave Samuel Jackson competition, Chester turned and looked at Dad in that cool, calm manner he always displayed. He then nonchalantly walked past Dad back to the gate just chained shut, put his nose against the hook and flipped it free. As the chain fell away and the gate slowly swung open Chester turned and once again looked cooly and calmly at Dad then nonchalantly walked past him and returned to the barn.

I share this story because that was what my Father did well; he told stories. And he wasn’t afraid to tell stories that taught him humility. But my Dad is not able to tell stories anymore. Last night at 9:36 PM he passed away.

No doubt he is regaling the angels and God with a multitude of stories that express his love of family and friends even as I type this.

I was out. I had my laptop packed, I was on the road, and I was just about to head up the North Shore when she called me back! She was too sore after working and decided to make tomorrow her house cleaning day. So, I’m going to make a road trip of it tomorrow. Right now I’m just sitting on my recliner contemplating a good nap.

Actually, just going to have my mantoux read. Otherwise I’m just waiting for my two weeks to go by. Not that I have anything against my current employer. The truth be told I’d recommend anyone work for them. However, my census was just too low. I was feeling guilty about having hardly any work and getting paid for it. Plus, I was finding it hard to believe they’d keep me on when I had no business coming in. So, I starting looking for another job. It was just luck that I was offered better pay.

There are quite a few people claiming that the conviction of Manafort and the plea agreement of Cohen will not change anything. I guess cynicism is to be expected. With the history of Watergate, the Savings & Loan scandal, the Iran/contra affair, and a myriad of other scandals, it’s easy to believe that nothing has changed. And for the most part the political and economic system in our country remains relatively tilted towards White Male Privilege.

However, the belief that nothing has changed flies in the face of civil rights advancements. Granted, it’s not perfect. As economic inequality continues to flourish, as the current push back against recent gains by and for the LGBT community rages, and race relationships with Latinos, African Americans, Asian Americans, and other dark skin people continues to be strained, it is clear there is still need for more work.

Change is always tumultuous, if I may don my Captain Obvious hat. But tumultuous doesn’t mean failure – it means success. If there wasn’t strife, stress, and conflict, there wouldn’t be any change occurring at all.

Trump’s political and legal problems is an example that the Institutional White Male Privilege block is losing its grip on leadership in this country.